


Shake It Out

by Archangel67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 7x17, Amnesia, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 10:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangel67/pseuds/Archangel67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel rises from the water with no recollection of his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shake It Out

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after putting together the ideas of Meg being involved in this episode as well as the (spoiler) that Cas was now married. Also, I used the Florence + The Machine song "Shake It Out" to inspire this. The lyrics in the fic come from that.

**_Regrets collect like old friends_ ** **_  
_**

It was cold here. Dark and wet. When the brown haired man broke the surface of the reservoir, he had to struggle just to make it to shore. His muscles were lethargic as he fought against the weight of the water. Soon his knees hit sand and soil, his hands clawing into the muck as he crawled his way onto shore. Above, the sky was black, pale stars dotting the nothingness.

**_Here to relive your darkest moments_ **

Everything seemed very far away and it was difficult to tell whether he had gone deaf or it was really just that quiet. Only once he heard the labored sound of his own breathing, the throb of his pulse beating against the inside of his skull, did he let out an exhausted sigh.

**_I can see no way, I can see no way_ **

He didn’t know where he was… when he was. He did’t know  _who_  he was.

It was terrifying and yet somehow freeing. As he lay on his back, soaked to the skin and covered in slick, clinging weeds from the bottom of the reservoir, he was aware of the inexplicable lightness that stole over him. A man with no name had no past. A man with no past had no regrets. He felt nothing. Save, perhaps, for a vague sense of awe at how very broad the sky was above him.

It didn’t take long before he had begun to shiver, however. Naked and exposed to the elements, he found that he did still have one thing - a sense of modesty. As he sat up, he moved to kneel at the edge of the water. Cupped hands spilled it down his arms, over his chest, across his legs. Splashing it up onto his face, he slicked his short hair back.

_**And all of the ghouls come out to play** _

“You shouldn’t scare me like that sweetheart.” A sudden voice drew his attention, blue eyes shooting over one bare shoulder. Color rising into his face, he tried to find the best way to cover himself. Unless he wanted to grab handfuls of lake weeds, he had nothing. Standing up awkwardly, he covered himself with his hands, arms stiffly in front of him.

“Who are you?” Hearing his voice for what felt like the first time was strange. It was foreign to him, the quiet gravel of it. How backward it was, demanding to know the identity of someone else when he didn’t even know his own. The voice belonged to a young woman - pretty, despite a strange smirk that seemed plastered to her red lips.

_**And every demon wants his pound of flesh** _

“You really don’t remember, do you?” She sounded amazed. “Really and truly? Huh.” There was a moment’s hesitation before she left the spot where she had been standing beside the tall wire link fence. Warm, soft hands settled on his shoulder and he flinched away automatically.

Why, he couldn’t say.

_**But I like to keep some things to myself** _

When he merely shook his head, feeling incredibly exposed before her, she smiled. It was warm and sympathetic and he couldn’t imagine her lying to him when she said, “I’m your wife. You’ve been so sick. You haven’t been right and you’ve been wandering off. I thought we had lost you this time for good.”

“My… my wife.” He repeated the words with a sort of confused reverence. “I have a wife.” The woman was shrugging off her cropped leather jacket and sliding it over his damp shoulders. It may not have covered him in any meaningful way, but it staved off the cold.

_**I like to keep my issues drawn** _

“That’s right,” she crooned as she grasped the collar of the jacket as it sat atop his shoulders, his arms still self consciously draped in front of his body. Leaning up toward him, she brushed her lips against his. A shock of familiarity coursed through him and he found himself blinking. They had kissed before - he knew, somehow. It stood to figure, if she was in fact his wife.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. Although he didn’t know what he was apologizing, he felt an overwhelming urge to do so. “I’m so sorry. I just… I don’t remember. I don’t remember you.” The woman tilted her head slightly and raised an eye brow.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head. We’ll get you home, safe and sound.”

He didn’t resist when she slid an arm around his lower back and led him away from the water. Slumping against her, his legs fought him every step of the way, but he was too tired to argue when everything she said seemed right. Ignoring the gnawing feeling in his gut, he swallowed, shivering.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I… I love you.”

Because that was the right thing to say in this situation.

Wasn’t it?

_**It’s always darkest before the dawn** _


End file.
